Five Minutes
by Rinne
Summary: Five minutes and he should have back-up in the building. And in five minutes the shooters could kill more people. GEN. Written for the Hurt Don community. COMPLETE


Title: Five Minutes  
Genre: Gen  
Rating: PG-13  
Characters: Don, Megan  
Spoilers: General for season 4, set somewhere in season 4  
Word count: 940  
Prompt: lj comm hurt_don Clue Challenge 20 (Feb 2011): What: Bullet, Where: Courthouse, and another prompt for the comm that is listed at the end of the story.  
Warnings: Angst.  
Disclaimer: Own nothing, not being paid.  
A/N: Thank you to krazykitkat and pixie_on_acid for the beta. Any mistakes remaining are my own.

Summary: Five minutes and he should have back-up in the building. And in five minutes the shooters could kill more people.

* * *

Don's legs gave out on him and he slid down against the wall. Breathing had become an exercise in how much pain he could take, every movement of his chest pulling at the bullet wound in his side that was soaking his white dress shirt red. The abrupt stop on the floor also jarred it and he moaned, trying to keep quiet. There were still at least two shooters in the courthouse—he didn't want to draw attention to himself. He'd rest for a minute and then he'd start moving again. The wall was cool against his skin and he shivered. He was cold, but there were drops of sweat on his forehead. Five minutes and he should have back-up in the building. And in five minutes the shooters could kill more people. He braced himself against the wall and struggled to get up. There was a sound of a gunshot, somewhere in the building, giving him the determination to fight his way up to standing. He leaned against the wall, breathing hard and grinding his teeth together against the pain. He had a job to do.

Don started moving forward, using the wall to keep himself up, gritting his teeth the entire way. He made it the length of a corridor and turned the corner, only to try to rapidly back away before they saw him. _Shit_. He'd underestimated their numbers.

He hadn't been quick enough, he heard a shout and running footsteps. There was no way that he could get away in time, he'd have to make a stand and take down as many as he could. They'd automatically aim at chest height, so getting on floor level would give him a brief advantage. It would be a bitch to try to get up again, but he knew that he wasn't going to get far on his feet anyway.

Don slid down the wall till he was on the floor, trying to make himself as small a target as possible. This wasn't how he wanted to go out. Hell, he didn't want to die at all. But, there wasn't much he could do about it other than to try to take some of them with him and hope that his back up might appear.

The first one came around the corner and Don easily picked him off. The second was right on the first's heels and went down just as easily. Don waited for the others to follow more cautiously, sweat starting to drip into his eyes. He blinked it away, noticing that his hands shook, potentially compromising his aim.

Still, no one else appeared, and then he heard movement behind him.

"Drop the gun."

The order came before he had a chance to swing around and face whoever had snuck up on him. He gave a split second to the idea of going through with it, turning around and firing, before deciding against it. He opened his hand and let the gun fall to the floor.

"Put your hands behind your head and interlock your fingers. Don't try to turn around," the voice ordered.

Don reluctantly obeyed, grunting at the pain it caused, unsurprised to hear someone approach him. Hands grasped his wrists, pulling his arms behind him, and he was cuffed. The gun was moved out of his reach and he was forced forward onto his stomach, almost blacking out when he hit the floor. As his vision hazily returned, he turned his head to the side to see someone he really didn't want to see walk towards him.

"Megan," he whispered. They'd gotten her, too. There went his back-up and the safety of everyone in the courthouse. She crouched beside him and he saw that she was still wearing her gun. He was confused...it made no sense. Was she in league with them? What was going on?

Something pressed against where he'd been shot, the pain peaked, and there was nothing.

* * *

Don's hospital gown hid the evidence of the bullet wound that had done its best to end his life, but it couldn't hide his paleness. At the look on his face, Megan felt something start tearing through her insides. He was confused and worried, but things were only going to get worse.

"Megan, what's going on?"

She avoided the question, moving to sit in the chair beside Don's hospital bed. "You're looking much better. You've got a bit of colour, now." Things had been touch and go, but Don was out of the woods, finally.

"Megan."

She didn't want to tell him. He had to know, but she didn't want to tell him.

"Don..." She sighed and looked away for a second, before focusing back on him. "Monroe paid someone to spike your coffee before you went to court. It was a hallucinogen. You started hallucinating, thinking that people were attacking the courthouse." She didn't want to tell him. She really didn't want to tell him. "You...shot," she saw him flinch, "two guards and one of them shot you. We found you just after you'd been shooting at people who weren't there."

"Guards?" Don asked, his voice small. He was shaking.

She wanted to spare him from the truth, but she couldn't. He had to be told. "One died on the way to hospital, the other is in a coma."

"Oh, God."

As Don fell to pieces in front of her—tiny shards that could never be mended whole again—Megan tried her best to comfort him, knowing that nothing would ever be enough. Don Eppes was never going to be the same again.

-FIN-

* * *

Additional prompt: lj comm hurt_don Clue Challenge 19 (Jan 2011) What: Hallucinogen Where: Indoors


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